Takedown
by Cardinal Robbins
Summary: SVU AU His breath coming in short gasps, John Munch felt his shirt saturating with warm liquid, as those around him reacted in near-hysteria. He’d gone down in the heat of the day, as Zelman screamed his name, promising she’d make her way to him.


"Takedown"

by Cardinal Robbins

Disclaimer: Wolf owns John Munch, that much is true. Sarah Zelman is mine, until Wolf buys her. Andy Munch is the creation of Animaltalker, and I hope she doesn't mind my using him here. Bernie, Marianne and Ben Munch are the creation of LSMunch; she allows me to bring them into my universe from time to time, since she's really kind in that regard.

His breath coming in short gasps, John Munch felt his shirt saturating with warm liquid, as those around him reacted in near-hysteria. He realized he was laid out on the cool grass, blinking at the brightness of a cloudless sky. He'd gone down in the heat of the day, as Zelman screamed his name, promising she'd make her way to him.

John heard his nephew cry out; he felt Ben fall heavily against him, warm wetness spreading from his right side. Ben was silent, his dark eyes wide as it dawned on him he'd also been hit.

"Ben! John!" Zelman had tried to return fire, while moving ever closer to them. Without her partner she was almost helpless this time. No one had her back as she pushed forward, using her weapon to bring down the man who had taken out Ben.

Marianne Munch shrieked, "No!" as her husband, Bernie, dropped to the dirt directly in front of her. He'd been felled by a single hit from an expert marksman, or so it seemed.

John's hand went to his chest as the dampness penetrated the sleeves of his shirt. He closed his eyes, dark glasses offering only partial protection from the glare of the sun.

Zelman cautiously scoped out a fast way to reach John and Ben. Getting to Bernie and Marianne would have to wait. She stayed low, almost creeping across the wet expanse of lawn. The heat was oppressive, her palms sweating as she moved west. It was then she saw the perp.

Weapon in hand, Sarah rose and ran for it – until something hot exploded against her thigh. She gasped in momentary pain, collapsing arm's length from John, just out of his reach. She tried to touch him as he stretched out his hand, but they were cheated out of the comfort of each other's grasp by mere inches.

He couldn't interlace his fingers in hers; they lay almost together, yet unable to feel the warmth of the other's embrace, as Ben curled by them, unmoving.

Their assailant stood, looking down on them all. Satisfied, he turned his back to walk away.

Suddenly, he felt a quick bolt of pain in the back of his neck, warm fluid oozing downward to soak his shirt.

He had been the last man standing, before John launched a projectile, which easily found its mark. The hunter had been hunted. Now he was a victim; perhaps soon to be another dead body, slumped among all the others.

"You lose, Andy," John said, a note of triumph in his voice. "You know what your problem is? You got so complacent, it was easy to pick you off."

"Yeah, Uncle Andy! Like this!" Ben exclaimed, drenching Andy as his target found its mark.

"You forgot the rules – we all had two weapons. Some of saved ours for the endgame." John joined in the laughter while everyone stood, all of them throwing their surplus watery weapons at a rather chagrined Andy Munch.

"You jerk," Sarah said, grinning as she lobbed her balloon straight into Andy's shirt, drenching the front. "That was for nailing me with a _hot_ water balloon," she declared, laughing. She knew there would be a red mark on her thigh for the remainder of the day, maybe longer. If it lasted until bedtime, John would certainly offer to kiss it and make it better.

"Can I help it the water in the hose was a little warm, Bureau bunny?" he asked, feigning innocence. He was secretly glad he'd given her a souvenir, since it was the first time she'd played the family's favorite summer game.

"'Warm'? Yeah…right, you ghost," she retorted, giving him a look. As always, there was generally friendly banter about FBI agents versus those in the CIA. Andy had called Sarah a 'Feeb' more than once, stopping only when John threatened him with physical harm. 'Ghost' and 'Spook' maintained a tacit truce at each family gathering, vehemently opposed to voicing their mutual respect.

Everyone watched as Ruth, John's mother, tallied up the scores of yet another Munch family reunion water balloon fight.

"The winner is…" she began, squeezing all she could out of her dramatic pause. Standing on the back porch, she smiled and looked over the top of their heads at Jacob. He stood silently in the background, a red pennant in hand as a sly smile spread across his expressive face. "…Jake!" Ruth finished. "Congratulations! You captured the other team's flag!"

"Yay! You did it, Uncle Jake! We won!" Ben yelled, excited over his team's triumph. Jake was really his Great Uncle, being Bubbe Ruthie's brother-in-law, but as far as Ben was concerned his family was a wealth of uncles who spoiled him as often as possible.

"How did you get your hands on our flag? I thought I'd killed anyone left standing that Lee didn't take down," Andy said, genuinely curious about the pennant's capture.

"I know how," John said. "Would you like to break the news to him, or should I?"

Andy looked absolutely crestfallen as he watched both men's faces. "So, you two did some advance planning, didn't you?" he asked, demanding an answer.

"Uncle Jake's patented 'poison-pill' fake-out," John said, relishing his cousin's misfortune. Every year Andy came to play, he'd win – but no one knew exactly how to stop his streak.

The rest of the family surreptitiously moved closer, knowing this would be something worth hearing.

"Did you 'kill' me, Andy?" Jacob asked.

He hesitated for a moment. "Uh…no, now that you mention it. I thought one of Lee's kids 'killed' you." He concentrated for a moment, replaying the scene in his mind. "You were down, so – "

"I was down, yes. But I wasn't out," he explained cryptically. "I kept both my balloons hidden, as I laid down after three or four others were 'killed.'"

In the game of "Takedown," everyone who wanted to play was given two water balloons. Two pennants were put at each end of the playing field, the winner being the first of two teams to snag the flag of their opponent. If you were hit by a watery weapon, you were 'killed' and had to lie down where you were hit. And now, Jacob wore his biggest self-satisfied smile, as he watched comprehension dawn on Andy's expression.

"Remember what I said, Andy: 'Down, but not out.' You fell for it, kiddo. When Johnny mentioned the plan, I didn't think it would work, but it flummoxed you completely!"

He stared at them both, grinning like an idiot. "I've been had – by a shyster! John, you did this!"

Everyone enjoyed a good laugh, even their favorite CIA agent, as Ruth stopped giggling long enough to remind them, "Captain of the losing team gets to clean up this mess."

Taking pity on him, John, Sarah and Ben set about helping Andy pick up dead water balloons spread at random across the backyard. John felt as if he'd redeemed his team, because they'd finally broken Andy's winning streak.

If left up to John, it wouldn't be the last time, either.


End file.
